Once More, With Feeling
by Heart of Daylight
Summary: There's a lot of freedom that comes with losing the people that care about you. When Jim finds himself at the beginning for the third time, but significantly less human and with an extra amulet calling out his former/future girlfriend's name, he goes down a new path, hopefully better than the ones already taken. (Replacement for Out of Hand.)
1. No Strings On Me

**Disclaimer: Trollhunters belongs to Guillermo Del Toro.**

* * *

The sound of an alarm had Jim shooting upright in his bed, accidentally smashing the alarm to pieces out of reflex.

A magazine of vespas and mopeds slid off him. It took Jim a moment to realize that he was in his room, on his bed, in his new, trollish body. However, it was the magazine sliding off his face that gave him the sickening feeling in his gut.

He had woken up with a magazine on his face twice before, both on the same day.

Throwing the blanket off his legs, Jim realized that his armor was not on him. A feeling of glee popped up, leaving him happy at least that he was still able to take it off, if nothing else. However, the clothes that he was wearing were torn and ripped around his now much larger frame. He stood up, wincing at a strange burning that felt like lines all over his body. When he looked down, he saw the culprit, raised, angry red lines in the same pattern of the etchings of his armor.

Then he noticed a couple more changes.

Huh, he was ripped. Cool. If he had to lose his humanity, at least he got an eight pack. The right foot only having four toes felt weird, though.

It was strange. He didn't look as alien as he felt on the inside but judging from his inability to eat like a human, he was more different on the inside. Not to mention all the new instincts and feelings. He ran a hand across his hair, then continued along his back, where he felt a scruff similar to NotEnrique's. Humans probably didn't have that, either.

Well, the worst monsters were the ones that still looked human, right? Some old adage about how Satan masquerades as an angel of light rose in the back of his mind, making him snort.

Finally, he looked over to his calendar, confirming his suspicions. He was back at the beginning, and unlike the last time, there was no elation at the prospect of casting off his responsibilities.

Just a quickly building sense of rage.

"Yeah, okay, real funny Merlin," he growled. "If this is one of your illusions, lift it now."

At the resounding silence in his room, a steady, rumbling growl built up in the back of his throat. "I already learned my lesson, Merlin, and we were in the middle of fighting Morgana if you don't remember. Send me back."

No one responded.

His stomach began to sink. Fear began to replace his rage, very quickly. "Merlin?" Then he realized he hadn't picked up the amulet yet. It was still at the canal.

Or so he thought, until a red light pulsed, filling his room. Jim looked down at his chest, finding the Eclipse amulet embedded over his chest. He raised his troll hand, feeling around its edges, his heart beginning to race as he found the edges of it fused to his skin. "Bonded to me, huh?" He gave a bitter laugh. He would never be able to get a moment to himself again.

He began poking at it. "Merlin? Where are you?"

The old man was either being extraordinarily stubborn, or something else had happened, and he was well and truly back in the past. Jim felt that it was probably best to assume the latter, just in case it was true. Which meant that his first objective was to go figure out what the heck happened to the amulet. That, in turn, meant going to Kanjigar's corpse. Rubble? Whatever it counted as.

Jim looked out his window. There wasn't a single cloud in sight across the entire sky, and the sun was blazing with its usual intensity.

This might be a bit more difficult than the last time.

Carefully opening his door, Jim peeked around. He found his mother's door closed with the same note on it as last time. He stepped out and onto the stairs as quietly as he could, making his way down to the garage.

In the garage, he found what he was looking for. A large black umbrella, meant for a family, big enough to provide a good defense against the sun as long as he stayed under it. He glanced to the garage door before he decided against it, not wanting to risk anyone in the neighborhood seeing him.

Instead, he went back into his house, going out the backdoor. The umbrella unfolded at the push of its button, and Jim realized that with angle of the morning sun, he would have to stick close to the ground and move slowly.

It was going to be incredibly humiliating and awkward, but hey, he'd done plenty of stuff like that in his tenure of Trollhunter. The half-troll would still rather do this than die.

* * *

Sitting in the rafters of the bridge across the canal, Jim stared down at the pile of rocks that was once the greatest Trollhunter of them all, and the current source of his problems.

The – or rather a, now – amulet was in the midst of the rocks. No one had poached it, yet, and the problem was with its call.

It didn't call to him, which would have been superfluous, but he didn't know how it could tell that he was unavailable. The problem was that it wasn't calling to Draal either, like it should have been if he wasn't there to take it.

No. Instead, it called to Claire Nuñez, a human just as fleshy and ignorant as he had been.

However, it was also forcing him to contemplate the situation he had found himself in. the amulet was calling to her, and he had refused its call once. You couldn't run from destiny, as he knew well enough. However, Claire would never normally come this way, and it took him a second to realize that he couldn't hand it to her.

Which led to his current predicament.

As he sat with his back to a pole and leg dangling over the side, he realized that no one knew him anymore. Toby was completely unaware that his best friend had been taken, replaced with a monster whose purpose was no longer clear. He had not matured how Toby had in the future, with all his experience and the shared situations they had been through. If Jim was to speak to him, he had no doubt that once Toby realized it was him, he would be accepted, but it just wouldn't be his Toby.

The same went for his own mother, who didn't know until near the end. She had no idea about the threats in their little town and under it, or what Jim had been through. Out of everyone, she would probably be the closest to who he truly knew now, but at the same time, there was no way that he would ever be able to stay with her. He would have to leave her, just like James Lake Sr. had.

Then there was Claire. Claire, who inspired him to push himself to do better, go further than he was capable of without her. Claire, who told him that she loved him no matter what.

Claire, who had never even spoken to him.

Blinky, Aaarrrgghh!, Draal, Vendel; he had never met any of them. And it hurt. More than Jim was ever prepared for.

They didn't _know_. More importantly, none of them cared.

Maybe, just maybe Jim could waltz into Trollmarket and claim the position of Trollhunter. He had the amulet, after all, but he couldn't access Daylight. Trying the incantation gave him nothing, and the incantation for Eclipse hadn't activated the armor. The only thing that did was willing it onto him. Besides, he would treat everyone with a familiarity that he would never be able to hold back, not after everything he had been through and what they had done to him.

Everything that he had gone through, everything that he had built, relationships, respect, trust; none of it mattered anymore. It was dust in the wind, erased; it never happened.

Jim felt like sobbing at the unfairness of it all. Already, tears pricked at his eyes, his heart ached with an intensity he had never known possible, but the world remained in front of him, unchanged and continuing with no regard to a wayward child.

Without warning, his ear twitched. The scraping of stone sounded from the sewers under the bridge, drawing his attention briefly. When he saw six eyes light up in the darkness, he immediately looked away, the tears falling with a new vigor from his face. He barely kept the sobs down, not wanted to alert the trolls to his presence.

Suddenly, he realized that there was someone else who had been with him in the end. Someone whose sudden lack of history with him was a boon rather than a new source of agony.

And he now had an astounding lack of obligations to hold him down from going after him. The beginnings of a plan formed in his mind, slowing the tears down and changing the silent sobs to tiny hiccups. Maybe there was something that he could still do.

Knowing no one cared conferred a lot of freedom.

First, though, there were some things he needed to do. Something that the two trolls watching probably would not like, but they didn't have umbrellas, so they couldn't do anything about it.

Jim dropped down to the ground, opening the umbrella again and carefully positioning it over his shoulder.

He walked up the amulet, ignoring the gasp from Blinky and the rumbling confusion from Aaarrrgghh!. Kneeling and sitting on his ankles, he stared into the amulet for a moment, watching it pulse.

There was an irrational urge to break it. To start destroying things, make the world feel the unfairness he felt. Instead, Jim sighed, and said, "Kanjigar, if you're watching, I promise that what I do is for the good of all human and trollkind. Watch over Claire for me, would you?"

Then he grabbed the amulet and walked away, ignoring the angry cries of Blinky and Aaarrrgghh!, feeling a strange hollowness settle into his chest at the finality of his actions.

* * *

Claire really needed to lock her windows.

For Jim, it was beneficial that she hadn't, but for any goblin, changeling, or anything else that would soon want her head…

Well, she needed to lock her windows.

The amulet was now resting on her bed with a sticky note taped to it with the number of a burner phone that he had recently procured. For once, he actually had a solid plan, and a well-thought-out one at that. For him, anyways. It felt like he was becoming Jason Bourne or something. Toby would have approved.

The thought brought a cross between a smile and a grimace to his face. Toby was about to lose his best friend with no explanation. No one would take that well, but most people had other people. For Toby, it had always just been him and Jim. There wasn't anyone else who looked past the exterior of the little chubby kid to see his golden heart.

To be fair, he was a bit too excited with girls. And most guys didn't really share the same interests as them. Eli was an acquaintance, but he had never really gotten to the friend category. Regardless, Jim had already made his decision. He wasn't going to force Toby to worry about a monster at all times.

On the topic of his mother, though, he was still undecided.

Jim really didn't want to force her into thinking that she had lost him. It would devastate her; she loved him so much, and she wouldn't be able to cook or have time for most of the chores around the house without him. Leaving a note would probably be worse than just leaving, because then she might think that he had left because of something she had done. And it wasn't like he could just tell her.

Unless he could.

Jim almost dismissed the thought, but then contemplated it. The plan for Claire was for her to tell him about the situations in Trollmarket and he could help her anonymously, however that would work. He'd probably end up winging it. But his mother…

Having someone who was actually attached to him could be a massive edge. She would be on his side, no matter what, and as an adult, she'd be able to catch plenty of things that the kids wouldn't. Plus, she was a doctor. If he ever got into trouble, he could just call her and ask what to do.

At the same time, though, he wasn't planning on staying in Arcadia for long. Strickler told him where he had gained his legendary assassin, and that was a world away. Jim knew his mother very well. She worried about everything, much more than what was healthy. If she knew that he was going to be spending months with someone who could very well kill him in his sleep, she would not be happy, and that could send her in a direction that would be much worse than simply letting her believe that he had gone missing.

Suddenly, Jim realized how detached his train of thought was. He was thinking of his own mother as nothing more than an asset, something he could use to further his plans. Disgust rose within his gut. The half-troll growled at himself, immediately throwing the plan away.

He was going to stick with Claire.

For now, though, he was hungry, so he needed to figure out where the closest dumpster was.

* * *

It took several hours for his phone to ring.

Jim was currently hiding in an outcropping on top of the mountain overlooking Arcadia, watching as the sun set over the town. His heart had settled down to a dull ache by now, but it wasn't going away anytime soon.

He took a deep breath to prepare himself for what would probably be the most trying conversation of his life, thanking whatever deities were out there that they weren't face to face.

He pressed the answer button, putting it up to his ear. "Hello, Ms. Nuñez." He facepalmed. What was he, some cliché Bond villain?

"How do you know who I am? Wait, you were in my house. What is this thing? How did you get in? Why am I wearing a suit of armor with a giant cleaver?" Her voice came out in a quick, panicky tone.

Jim winced. Yeah, breaking into her house and leaving something on her bed was pretty creepy, but he didn't know what else he was supposed to do. "You are now in possession of the amulet of Merlin, also known as Daylight. I'm sure you know that it's magic by now. The rest will probably be explained momentarily by the two trolls who are in your basement. I'd take it as a personal favor if you didn't tell them about me." Wow, he was really channeling his inner spy villain.

"The what?" She yelled.

"Don't worry, they're very friendly. The big one is a pacifist, and the four-armed one is a historian."

"Why would I want to meet trolls?!"

"Because that amulet is theirs. Well, yours now, but you're the first human to ever have it." Jim smiled ruefully to himself. Technically, in this timeline, she was. He wasn't human, after all.

Over the phone, Claire was silent. Then, a deep breath sounded. "Okay," she said. "Why do I have this amulet?"

"I'll let the trolls explain that." Jim would probably mess it up. "Now go. If you want to talk after, we can."

He hung up, then let out the breath he had been holding. He drew his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. It was beginning to hurt him worse than it had before. Claire's inability to recognize him drew the final nail in the coffin.

He was well and truly alone.

The person that arguably knew him the best, maybe even better than Toby, and she wasn't even able to recognize his voice. Late night talks over the phone, the ones where they poured their souls out to each other, whispering to each other in the worst situations, and she had no idea who he was.

At this point, it didn't even hurt. It just brought a hollow certainty to his chest.

He didn't belong here anymore.

That didn't mean that he wasn't going to help her, though. He had a lot of extremely valuable experience, especially against the people she would be fighting. However, he would never be able to reveal why, nor would he ever be able to reveal who he was. Eventually, he would make his way back, but by then, he hoped to be so gone from everyone's memory that maybe he could just start over.

Jim tried to shake himself off, knowing that his current train of thought would do nothing to help him. All it did was fill him with pain. But it wouldn't leave him.

Sighing, he decided to settle down and sleep. Tomorrow, he would figure out what to do and where to go. For now, he was too frazzled and emotionally destroyed to even lift a finger.

* * *

Opening his eyes was odd. Something felt… off.

The fact that he was standing on the bridge over the canal might be part of that, though.

Dark, malignant energy spiraled into the sky into a giant cyclone from Trollmarket below. It felt strange to Jim, though, because the last time he saw it he was filled with terror and rage. Now, it felt different, good. It felt like home.

He hated it.

A scream from his left tore his attention away from the cyclone. His friends were suspended by Morgana's magic, dangling in the air and struggling. They were yelling for him not to do something, to snap out of it, that this wasn't him.

But Jim wasn't sure what they were talking about. Even the individual words were lost to him. He cocked his head, trying to find words to ask them what they were talking about, but he couldn't speak. Frowning, he tried again, only for words to slip away from his mind like sand.

Alarm stirred within him, quickly rising to an unabashed sense of terror. His body wouldn't move, Eclipse wouldn't obey him, and something was breathing behind him. A hand clawed with yellow-armored fingers delicately landed on his shoulder, and Morgana leaned close to his ear. "How delicious. The amulet, such an intricate part of you…"

Her arm slid across his chest, her fingers caressing the amulet. "If only I had known. Your body is no longer your own, little hunter. It has a new mistress." And with a careless wave of her hand, Jim set off at a slow pace towards his friends.

Eclipse appeared in his hands, the usual weight that was such a comfort doing nothing but contributing to the rising panic. Aaarrrgghh! was the first he reached. Without any hesitation, Jim's body plunged the blade through his forehead.

Inside, Jim screamed, he thrashed, he desperately tried to close his eyes, but nothing happened. Outside, he carelessly yanked Eclipse from Aaarrrgghh!'s stone body, crumbling the statue to rubble. Another few steps, and he slashed right through Blinky's large head, shattering his surrogate father instantly.

The next thing he knew, he stood in front of Morgana again, the taste of iron clear in his mouth and blood covering his body. Something had broken inside him, and now he just stared ahead blankly. Morgana took his cheeks in her hands, purring, "Don't you see how easy it is? Gunmar, Aaarrrgghh!, Claire, it doesn't matter. No one could ever stand against you. They are all to you now as glass is to a hammer. And you would waste such power on your friends when you so easily decimated them?"

* * *

Jim bolted upright with a scream, his armor covering him. Sunlight shone at the edge of the cave he had taken shelter in the night before, shocking him with its brightness.

He was hyperventilating, grabbing his horns and trying to pull them off his head, his tugs only growing more insistent when they refused to give. A second later, Jim's mind caught up with what was happening, and he tried to force himself to calm down.

It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

Not his first. Not by a longshot. Jim had been in the business of sleepless nights and terrified awakenings for a while now, especially after the Darklands, but this was something new. This one could have actually happened.

He tossed Gunmar across an entire block without slowing down. Jim had no doubt that he could simply grab a human head and squeeze to make it pop like an overripe watermelon. As for trolls, he had taken Angor Rot and Gunmar at the same time and won. If he went rogue, it would be very, very difficult to stop him.

A sudden noise from his side made Jim spring into action, launching himself off the ground and pulling out his glaives. Until he realized that it was just the phone ringing. Which meant that it could only be one person, and even if she didn't know him, her voice would still help a lot. He took a couple deep breaths to compose himself before picking it up.

He flipped it open. "Good morning, Ms. Nuñez. Interesting night?"

A long-suffering sigh came out of the phone. "That's one way of putting it. Trolls exist. Okay. And apparently, I'm now their sacred defender or hunter or whatever because this amulet chose me. How does that work? I asked if someone chooses you and they said no. Did you not choose to give it to me?"

"No. I was simply the delivery boy." Jim snorted at the thought. If only his life could be simple.

"What are you? Are you a troll?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?"

"Well, they said they keep everything really secret. So, wouldn't you have to be a troll to know all this stuff?"

"In theory, yes, but not in practice."

Briefly, Claire was silent. "You're not human, though, are you?"

"Not quite."

"What are you then?"

Jim was silent for a moment. He could lie, but where was the fun in that? If he was going to be all anonymous and distant, he might as well have fun with it. "Something new."

She snorted. "Okay, Mr. Cryptic. Do you have a name or something I could call you other than creepy?"

Ouch. It took him several seconds, but then he remembered something from distant memory, back when he got all interested in Vikings from How to Train Your Dragon. "Jaeger," he said. The Norse word for hunter.

This really was a lot of fun once he ignored the soul-crushing loneliness.

"And what do you want, Jaeger? You seem like you want to help me, but what's you angle? People don't help others and expect nothing in return."

You, something deep within him whispered. Jim squashed it ruthlessly. "Arcadia is… very important to me. Arcadia and Trollmarket. I want you to give me updates and make sure that everything is as it should be. In return, I can help you and give out information if you need it. I could even teach you the ways of trolls, if you so wish."

"Are you in Arcadia?" she asked.

Technically, he was outside city limits. "No."

"Okay." Claire took a deep breath, and Jim could picture the mask of concentration that had slipped over her face. It was adorable. "Okay. I can do that. Will we be speaking face to face?"

That wouldn't go over well. "Not for a long time."

"One last question: do you think I could tell my friends?"

He would have died so many times without Toby. Actually, he probably wouldn't have survived the first night if he didn't have that motivation pushing him. "I would encourage it. Friends push us to do things far beyond what we could do ourselves."

"That's… pretty profound."

"Thank you."

Claire snorted. "Alright, I'll give you the updates. Do you want me to text them to you, or-"

"Only the time on call can be traced, not the actual words. Unless the person is a person of interest, which you, as a typical teenage girl, are not. Unless you have something you need to tell me?"

"Uh, nope. My life was pretty normal less than twenty-four hours ago."

"Good. I wish you luck, Ms. Nuñez."

"Please just call me Claire."

He tapped the button to hang up, then grinned slightly to himself. Wow, it was fun getting the last word. Batman made so much more sense now.

* * *

**Well, I did say I already had it written. This is replacing Out of Hand, and personally, I already like it more. I'll try to update this one more than I did before, and hopefully I can do it with better writing. Also, if you can't tell, this one is going to be far, far more painful for Jimbo. It all ends well, because I'm not into the whole 'and everyone died and it was horrible forever' stuff, but where would the fun be if there wasn't pain along the way?**


	2. Rule Number One

**Disclaimer: Trollhunters belongs to Guillermo del Toro.**

**Told you guys this one would be better. And that I would probably put out more, because I like this one a lot more.**

* * *

For once, Claire was freaking out over something perfectly reasonable to freak out over.

As perfectly reasonable as trolls were, anyways.

In any case, the two invaders in her basement were freaky, giant, made of stone, and most definitely not human. Whoever the guy on the phone was, he was at least nice, even if he had been in her bedroom. Apparently, she wasn't allowed to talk about him. However, he did encourage her to call over her friends. Which she did. Once she convinced herself that she wasn't crazy.

"What's so insane that we had to come over so late on a Sunday night, C-Bomb?" Darci asked, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Mary was texting away on her phone, not talking to either of them. Claire knew she was listening, though. She was good at that.

"So, uh, I found this… thing… yesterday." She pulled out the amulet, laying it on the counter for them to see.

As usual, her parents were out and didn't care what was happening to their house as long as she wasn't destroying it with a party. They had taken Enrique with them this time, which was strange, but Claire wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. As much as she loved him, it was tiring to take care of a child and do school.

"An amulet?" Darci picked it up, turning it over in her hands and examining it. She oohed at the sudden pulse of blue light that came from it. "It's a pretty cool toy. You want to put it up on E-bay?"

"Uh, that would probably be a bad idea. See, the weird thing is this." Claire took it back from Darci, and with another look to remind herself of the incantation, she said, "For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command."

She floated up into the air, blue lights whizzing around her. Individual pieces of armor appeared as chain mail covered her body, hovering over her body and then clamping down on it, fitting like a glove. Finally, she landed back on the ground, and the giant cleaver from last night appeared in her hand.

Darci and Mary gaped at her. Mary's phone slipped out of her hands, and she didn't even react when it cracked against the floor. "Oh. Em. Gee," she said, before she and Darci rushed Claire.

"How – what – Claire, where in God's name did you find this?!" Darci asked, lifting up her armor and rapping her knuckles against the armor.

"It's gotta be, like, magic or something! C-Bomb, do you know what this means?! You've been chosen!" Mary's arms shook with excitement as she ran her hands over the armor. "Wow, whoever made this had some mad fashion skills. I totally didn't know you could look this good in armor."

"And that's the other part." Claire's friends looked to her. "I really have been chosen. It's the weirdest part of all this, actually. So, how do you guys like-"

She was unable to finish her sentence when her door blasted off its hinges into her kitchen, scaring all of them out of their wits. A voice came from outside. "Aaarrrgghh!, did you even listen to a word I just said?"

"Sorry," another voice rumbled, sounding oddly chastised.

Then Blinky walked in.

Claire already knew him, so she wasn't too surprised by his appearance. Mary and Darci, on the other hand, grabbed onto each other and started screaming. "Lady Claire!" Blinky exclaimed, looking pleased. Aaarrrgghh! forced half his torso through the door. "I knew it was only a matter of time before the amulet called to us."

"Called to you?" she repeated.

"Not really." He leaned closer and put a hand against the side of his mouth. "We've been spying on you."

"Spy on you." The giant put two fingers to his eyes, then pointed to hers, grinning. She smiled back at him, unable to resist. He looked like a giant, mossy puppy.

Claire gestured to her two terrified friends, wishing she had a camera. "These are my two best friends, Mary Wang and Darci Scott."

"What are those things!?" Mary shrieked. Darci grabbed a pan from beside the stove, holding it between them and the trolls like a shield.

Blinky looked over at them. "You told your two friends about us?"

Claire shrugged. "Is that a problem?"

"Lady Claire, we trolls have gone to great lengths to keep our existence secret from your kind, lest there be panic."

"He has, like, a thousand eyes! We're going to die!" Mary screamed.

"Like that." Blinky rolled his eyes. To Mary, he said, "Hardly. Your friend is the Trollhunter. Her noble obligation is protective."

"Protective?" Darci asked, with narrowed eyes. "What is she protecting us from?"

"Protects humans and trolls from bad trolls," the giant troll rumbled, finally pushing himself through the door.

"And goblins, gruesomes, along with the occasional rogue gnome," Blinky listed off, ticking off a finger with each name.

"Oh em gee, like a superhero?" Mary disentangled herself from Darci, gasping. "Do we get to be, like, her sidekicks or something?"

"Please, you guys would be my partners." Claire scoffed. "Actually, Mary would be the sidekick."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Hah hah, Claire. You're so funny."

"Why don't you guys just do it yourself?" Darci asked, putting a hand on her hips. She didn't drop the frying pan. "It's not as if you're lacking any strength."

"Ah, under the normal circumstances for the last several thousand years, we have. Claire has been chosen to be very first human Trollhunter. I am indeed curious as to why, but the amulet does not make mistakes." Blinky rapped two sets of knuckles on her armor, highlighting his point.

"So, who was the last Trollhunter?" Darci asked. "And what happened to them?"

"The last Trollhunter was Kanjigar the Courageous. Unfortunately, he was felled two days ago."

Mary shivered. "Does that mean-"

"Killed," Aaarrrgghh! muttered, his ears drooping and his eyes dropping to the floor.

Blinky nodded. "Indeed. Brutally slain, by the most ruthless of trolls; the Gumm-Gumm Bular."

Claire felt a chill run through her. The last guy to have her position was murdered?

"I wouldn't worry, Claire." Darci put a hand on her shoulder. "This Bular guy probably just got lucky, right?"

Blinky hummed. "The evidence does not suggest that. Bular is a most formidable opponent."

"Well, then the other guy, Kanji-whatever, he was just, like, off his game, right?" Mary interjected, coming to stand behind Claire.

"Doubtful. Kanjigar was perhaps the most alert and able of all the Trollhunters."

Claire's heart dropped. "But, not the best, I'm betting," she said desperately.

"Oh, the very best," Blinky said with a grin, spreading his arms. "Many songs and sagas have been written about him."

Claire's back bumped into the counter, and she slid down it silently clutching her temples. Fantastic. Chosen by the coolest magic thing ever and she was probably going to die very soon to someone who killed the best person to ever hold her position just two days ago. Darci stood in front of her protectively, saying, "Yeah, I think what we're really worried about here is that is this troll-"

"Bular."

"Yeah, I know. If this Bular could defeat Kanjigar-"

"Smash to pieces," Aaarrrgghh! piped up, sniffing at the display on the kitchen island.

"Right. If he could do that, then what's going to happen to C-Bomb here?" Darci gestured to her friend, sitting on the floor with despair.

Blinky paused a moment. Then held up a finger, opened his mouth, closed it again, then opened it again and spoke. "A most appropriate, if troubling, query, Darling." At Darci's glare, he quickly corrected himself. "Darci! Of course, we would never expect Lady Claire to go into battle without the proper training."

Mary nudged Claire with her foot. "See? They're not unreasonable after all! So, like, how long does this training take?"

"Oh…" Blinky began raising his arms, holding up fingers as he counted them. Claire felt her stomach sink deeper with each finger he held. "Decades."

"And, uh, how long do I have?" Claire asked, a bit of hope left in her voice.

"A day or two." Blinky spun his hand a bit to indicate uncertainty. Claire put a hand over her heart, trying to keep it from beating so hard that it would turn into a heart attack. Even if it felt like she was already in the midst of one.

Aaarrrgghh! tried to stand up, accidentally slamming his horns into the ceiling. He immediately attempted to backtrack, slamming into a chair and flattening it. "Your cave," he said accusatorily. The giant troll accidentally knocked over a lamp while turning around. Claire's friends immediately rushed to try and keep him from moving. "Too small."

"So, Lady Claire, are you ready? We should begin your training immediately." Blinky seemed excited, at least.

"It's, um, a school night." Claire righted the lamp that Aaarrrgghh! knocked over as Mary and Darci tried to herd him out of the house.

"I assure you, the relevance escapes me," Blinky said.

"I'm a straight-A honors student. Studying and doing my homework is very important," Claire said matter-of-factly. "I can't just go out Trollhunting at the drop of a hat."

"Why not?" Blinky seemed genuinely at a loss. Claire arched an eyebrow. For a historian, he didn't seem to have a high value on education.

"Getting killed by a vicious troll named Bular is a huge deal breaker for me."

"Deal breaker?" he asked.

"I don't want to die!" Claire screamed, turning around to get in his face.

Blinky blinked. Claire found it odd, since all of his eyes did it out-of-sync. Then he smiled. "Goodness gracious, who does?" he said while laughing.

"Can you please, just, take this back?" Claire asked, holding out the amulet.

Blinky wrapped her fingers around it and pushed it back at her. "I cannot. The amulet called to you. It chose you. It is yours, until you die."

"And I'd really like to get away from my parents before that happens."

"Lady Claire, you are now responsible for the protection of two worlds, human and troll alike. If you do not keep the balance, evil trolls like Bular will come into yours and wreak havoc."

"Wait, you mean he might hurt actual humans?"

"Like you." Aaarrrgghh! pointed at her as Darci and Mary were trying to shove him out the door.

"Not. Helping!" Blinky growled at him.

"What does he mean?" Mary asked, putting her back to Aaarrrgghh! and pushing against the floor.

Sighing, Blinky answered, "With the amulet now in your possession, Bular will seek you out, and you will face him, one way or another."

Mary and Darci yelled as they finally forced Aaarrrgghh! through the doorway. Panting, Mary walked up to Blinky and said, "I think what Claire needs is a little bit of time to process this all. I don't know about trolls, but humans do a lot better when they have time to process heavy changes."

"Fine, fine. We will return tomorrow then, to begin your training." He turned to follow Aaarrrgghh! out the door, taking a step before looking back. He saw Claire looking like the world had just been pulled out from under her feet, lost without an anchor. He sighed. "Lady Claire, if I may." When she looked up, he continued. "Destiny is a gift. Some go their entire lives living existences of quiet desperation, never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon our shoulders is actually a sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights. Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valor, that to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it means to be a hero. Don't think, Lady Claire. Become."

Blinky grinned at her tentative smile. Then he turned, and without another word, followed Aaarrrgghh! out the door.

None of them noticed the dark, horned figure resting in the trees, watching their entire conversation.

* * *

Jim sighed to himself. He was high up in one of the trees, resting on a particularly thick branch with his back to the trunk. One knee was drawn up with an arm resting across it, while the other leg dangled in the wind.

Earlier that day, he had managed to find some sweatpants that stretched out to accommodate his figure along with an extremely large hoodie at one of the homeless support shops. He figured he was now eligible to take from it, so he didn't feel too bad essentially stealing from them.

Blinky was just like how he had been in the beginning. Unused to human customs, and silently rooting for the new Trollhunter. Full of hope, but not sure if that hope was grounded, so he tried to stay detached but ultimately failed. He had grinned at the speech, trying to ignore the heart-wrenching pain at its familiarity.

Claire was, unsurprisingly, a bit more invested in things other than Trollhunting than he had been. Of course, he hadn't wanted to die either, but she had tons of school stuff to do besides.

With a chill, Jim realized that she didn't have the chef skills that had been his only defense against Bular in the beginning. He groaned, knowing that he would have to follow them around and potentially expose himself if things got too bad. Which brought him to another revelation.

How, in any good conscious, could he leave her to fend for herself?

He hadn't been at all prepared for the role either, but Claire truly had no combat skills or experience with anything bladed that he knew of. Had she ever gotten into a fight before? That was a big hang-up for him in the beginning, and she might be able to avoid the whole Draal thing if she knew about it. She wasn't close to Strickler, so would she ever be able to see his betrayal coming?

If he started helping where would he stop? Jim knew the answer. He wouldn't. He would stunt her growth, by never allowing her into dangerous situations. If she was going to be the Trollhunter, she would have to go through pain, suffering, and loss, just like he had. With his feelings reconciled in his mind, Jim nodded to himself and stood up.

One last look down at Claire's house revealed the three girls on the couch, Mary and Darci nodded at something Claire said as she pounded a fist into her hand. Satisfied, Jim found the direction of downtown Arcadia and leapt away, hoping to find something useful while he was out for the night.

* * *

Jim's tiny cave was quickly becoming cluttered.

There were five different maps laid out, procured from a map shop that Jim had no idea existed until he found it while carefully creeping across the roofs of Arcadia. Perhaps more surprising was the slightly ratty duffle bag that he found in dumpster while trying to find some glass to eat. It was massive, darkly colored, and while there were enough holes on the inside that the pockets really weren't pockets anymore, it held things well enough.

The phone began to ring as Jim was using a nearly-dead marker to circle where Strickler had once shown him Angor's temple was in each of the maps. He didn't pay attention to it until he was finally finished, knowing that he wouldn't be able to multitask. Plus, it made it seem like he was actually busy and didn't just creep around all day waiting for Claire to call.

Flipping it open, he said, "Good morning, Claire."

"Yeah, when were you going to tell me about the murder-troll coming for the amulet?" She sounded almost as angry as she had when she was ripping into him about going into the Darklands alone.

"Bular?" he asked, perfectly aware of who she was speaking of.

"Yes, Bular! Who else – wait, are there more? Oh my god, please don't tell me there's more." Claire sounded panicky, and he didn't blame her.

"Not on the surface, no. Has Blinky not explained the Killahead Bridge yet?"

"Killa-what? No, he hasn't. Can you?" she pleaded.

"Not as well as he can. Blinky was actually there, I wasn't. I am… significantly younger than him." At least, he thought he was. Blinky had never actually told him his age, but he knew he was at least a thousand years old.

Claire sighed. Jim could picture her rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Wait, how old do trolls get?"

"Uh… the oldest troll was over five thousand years old when he died. And he didn't die of age." Jim fervently pleaded that his information was as he remembered, because if it wasn't, it might destroy his credibility.

"That's insane," Claire breathed.

"They do show signs of aging, I just don't think it kills them."

It took Claire a few seconds to ask her next question. "You really aren't a troll, are you?"

He snorted. "Shouldn't you be going to school?"

A soft curse came through the phone before she hung up, making Jim chuckle to himself. He put down the phone on top of one of the maps, then carefully wadded up the duffle bag and put it underneath his head as he lay down. Trying to lay on your back when you had horns was not a fun experience. Jim took a deep breath before closing his eyes and trying his best to go to sleep.

* * *

As Jim opened his eyes, he was greeted with a grisly image. "How was your nap, little doll?" Morgana hummed in his ear. Somehow, the half-troll knew he was dreaming, but that didn't help him with the sight before him.

Arcadia stood before him in ruins, pillaged and ransacked by Gumm-Gumms who were still chasing the humans running from them, screaming in terror. There was an odd weight in his left hand, and looking down, Jim saw that Eclipse was not the only blade he wielded.

The Decimaar blade was a brutal, savage thing. Its edge was sharp, but not everything along its length was an edge. There were plenty of cracks and gouges along the stone sword's length, and it seemed almost more like a hook than a sword, but Jim knew perfectly well that it did nothing to take away from its violence. If anything, it only added brutality, making any wound given by it more irregular and agonizing. It seemed as if it was made by a caveman given a vague description of a sword, who then tried to make it as destructive as it could be.

It served its purpose well.

Angor Rot came to stand by his side. His burning yellow eyes held nothing but judgement in them as he stared at Jim, but he said nothing. The Shadow Staff was clutched tightly in his hand, and with a sickening feeling, Jim realized that there was only one person that he could have gotten it back from.

Jim tried to scream. He tried to yell, swing Eclipse at him, the Decimaar blade, anything, but his body did nothing. His eyes turned back to the scene in front of him as two Gumm-Gumms approached, dropping a red-haired woman in scrubs at his feet.

He struggled harder within himself, making Morgana giggle, covering her mouth with the back of a hand. "Look at her, Jim. She thinks this isn't you. She wants to change your mind. Why don't you show her whose mind should be the one changing?"

Jim's body wordlessly lifted the Decimaar blade to his mother's face, and she screamed in agony as light was pulled from her, making the blade glow with power. A feeling of ecstasy and power streamed into Jim, making his body shudder. Eventually, the light stopped, and Barbara knelt before him, gray and lifeless.

The half-troll stared, horrified, while Morgana smiled at him. "Such an amazing power you wield, James. I find myself in awe of you. And I know you find me… enchanting. Shall we?" She offered a hand, pointing her emerald hand bearing the Staff of Avalon towards Arcadia.

* * *

The half-troll bolted upright with a roar, a glaive held out in front of him as the Eclipse armor painted the walls of the cave with an eerie red light. He panted, trying to shake the memories out of his mind. He let his glaive dissipate but found that he was unable to dismiss the armor. Jim clutched his horns and buried his face in his knees, screaming into them, trying to force out all of his emotions.

A few minutes later, Jim felt good enough to stand up and make sure that he hadn't accidentally destroyed anything that he needed. He felt something brush against the hair on the back of his neck and whipped around, pulling his glaives back out. However, the feeling moved with him, and after a full twenty seconds of the half-troll whipping back and forth, he put a hand to the back of his neck cautiously.

When all he felt was the hood of his hoodie, he sighed and smacked his forehead. It was interesting that it hung out of the armor, but then again, he had never worn anything with a hood in the armor before.

Jim turned his attention to the horizon visible from the mouth of the cave and found that the sun was dipping low enough in the distance that he would be able to move about freely. Which also meant that Bular might have already found Claire when she went home after school.

Feeling panic well up within him, Jim took a running start and sprang out of the cave and off the nearby cliff, dropping into the trees below. He grabbed onto a tree as he fell, converting his downward motion into a fast spin around the branch. After the second turn, he let go of the branch, throwing himself towards Arcadia at an even faster pace than before.

* * *

Evening was an interesting thing as a troll. There was no sun to keep them from going to the surface, but people were still out, restricting their movements. Jim groaned as he had to nearly lay flat on roofs to keep the people on the street from seeing him, wondering how no one saw Bular chasing him and Toby around town.

With a quick look over the edge of a building, he confirmed that the coast was clear. Jim leapt over the small gap, crouching down and shuffling to the next edge.

There was an obvious block here; plenty of traffic cones and road blocks. The half-troll could even spy the giant semi-truck that Bular threw at him and Toby. Curiously enough, though, there was no Bular.

A quick hop got Jim down into the street. Surveying the area, he found nothing out of the ordinary. No cracks in the street indicative of the large Gumm-Gumm, and after a preliminary sniff, no odd smells were revealed. He shrugged to himself. Maybe he was wrong.

Then he facepalmed. Claire's parents always drove her home, until he started sometimes walking her home. Bular was impatient, but he wasn't stupid enough to reveal himself to the entire world by attacking a car in broad daylight, and Strickler would keep him from attacking her house.

Sighing to himself, Jim resolved to start some breathing exercises to get him a better control over his emotions.

Just as he was about to turn around and head home, he heard a roar and then his back exploded in pain.

Jim screamed, immediately falling to the ground and rolling as his armor formed over him. Bular's other sword impaled the pavement where he had been nary a second ago, and the Gumm-Gumm prince blinked as he saw Jim's armor. "What trickery is this?!" he roared. "Do you think yourself a Trollhunter, fool?"

Jim didn't answer, instead trying to leap away. Bular grabbed his leg and slammed him back into the ground, bringing his other sword down as he did. Jim barely summoned his shield in time to block the strike, but still yelled from the way it drove his injured back into the street. The smell of iron was becoming stronger, and the half-troll knew he had to get away if he didn't want to die of blood loss.

He drove both his feet into the troll's stomach, launching him into the side of the semi-truck and caving it in on him. Shakily, Jim got to his feet and started running. He leapt onto a rooftop, ignoring Bular's cries. "Coward!" he yelled. "Come back and face me!"

Jim chucked Eclipse behind him and allowed himself a tiny feeling of victory when Bular's yells were abruptly cut off. He didn't look back, though. He just kept running.

A few minutes later, Jim tripped over the edge of a rooftop, taking a tumble into an alleyway and landing in a dumpster. He barely registered the shattering of glass, instead gasping in pain at his back. For a moment, he simply lay there, then started feeling around, seeing if he could find something to wrap around himself when he got back to his cave.

Eventually, he felt something made of fabric. Pulling his hand out, he saw the edge of a ripped and threadbare blanket with odd stains on it. Grimacing, Jim pulled it out the rest of the way and pushed himself out of the dumpster. "Idiot," he berated himself. "Rule number one. Never forget rule number one!"

What good was being able to take Gunmar if he was caught by surprise? None, that's what he just learned. At least he would never forget it.

He had no idea whether he should disinfect the wound, since he'd never seen a sick troll, but he decided that he should err on the side of caution. He braced himself against the dumpster and looked for something that looked like it was medical. Then slapped himself and looked for an alcoholic drink.

He found a couple bottles of vodka that were still half full; some teenagers probably had to ditch them when the cops showed up. Jim gathered them into an arm after tying the blanket around himself.

The sound of stone slamming into stone reached his ears, and Jim heard a familiar roar. Silently cursing, he hoisted himself up onto a rooftop, wincing at the way his back stretched. He started dashing again, blotting out the pain as best as he could.

"Spineless Impure! I have the taste of your blood now, you cannot escape me!" Bular roared at him. Glancing at the street, Jim lamented the lack of cars. He really wished that Strickler would show up soon and stop him, because he didn't have a portal to lose the Gumm-Gumm through. Why did he think he was a changeling though?

Then Jim remembered that Trolls didn't bleed. Changelings did, but it was purple. Bular probably didn't bother checking the color, though. He then also realized that his blood was flowing through the chain links in his armor and slipping out of the cracks between the plates.

Screaming in his mind, asking why nothing could ever be easy, Jim made a sharp turn away from the direction of his cave. Every new instinct he had was screaming something different at him, but for once, the pain allowed him to force them all back and think clearly. With luck, he could lose Bular in the city and make his way back to the cave before he passed out.

* * *

Jim panted from exertion as he stumbled into his den, immediately dropping to his knees as his armor dissipated. His vision was darkening, and he had to move fast if he was going to keep himself from dying.

He dragged the now useless hoodie off his torso and poked at his back, but immediately yanked them back and yelled in pain. He eyed the vodka he had brought back with him, trying not balk a what he knew he had to do if it was to stay disinfected.

First, he popped open a bottle and poured it all over the blanket, soaking in and squeezing it out so it was only damp. He would have preferred something clean to use as a bandage, but for now, this was the best he had. Jim just hoped his stone skin would prevent him from getting rashes from the alcohol.

For a moment, he sat there, staring at the next bottle uncomprehendingly. Then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing with it. He lay down on his stomach, mentally preparing himself for what he knew would probably be the worst thing he would ever do. Reluctantly, he balled up the slashed-up hoodie and place it in his mouth, taking quick breaths through his nose. Before he lost his nerve, he popped open the bottle and dumped it in the wound.

Fire spread throughout his back, and while Jim knew he was screaming, he couldn't feel it. He couldn't even see the cave anymore. There was nothing other than pain, a blazing agony, encompassing every fiber of his being.

Then there was nothing at all.

* * *

**I may be wrong about troll sickness, since Vendel did have medicine on hand for Aaarrrgghh!, but there's no way that Jim would know about it unless he specifically asked. Also, while I love Jim, there's a lot of times where he really doesn't think before he acts, and with his braain now being completely different, I feel like he would rush into danger again. And really, the only reason Bular lost to Jim was because he underestimated him. Bular has killed plenty of Trollhunters; a scrawny sixteen-year-old with maybe three weeks of training suprised him when it turned out that, oh, hey, don't mess with a teenager, they can't even predict their own actions.**

**I also may or may not put out a Star Wars crossover soon, if I can figure everything out for it. Would that be interesting to you guys?**


	3. A Change of Plans

**Disclaimer: Trollhunters belongs to Guillermo del Toro.**

* * *

Jim's eyes opened.

Light was streaming outside of his cave. The din of cars and activity had already risen. His back pulsed angrily, reminding him of what had happened. His entire body felt like a semi-truck was crushing him, leaving him pinned down and unable to move. Turning his head to the side, ignoring how his body ached from sleeping on his face, he saw what had awoken him.

The buzzing phone clattered along the stones. Jim lifted a heavy limb, dropping his hand over the phone. With an inordinate amount of effort, he dragged the phone over to him and flipped it open. "Hello?" he rasped, surprised at the sound of his own voice.

"Jaeger? Where have you been? I've been calling you for two days now!" Claire's voice was angry and harsh.

"Two days?" he muttered. That couldn't be good for him. Probably explained why he was so hungry, too. Using his unoccupied hand, he felt along his back, blinking when he felt nothing more than a raised line. There was no pain from the action, just the same pulses beneath the skin that had been present when he awoke.

Jim let the hand fall back down to the ground. A healing factor. That was nice. Jim was willing to bet it wouldn't work on an empty stomach, though, so he needed to find something quick. This didn't feel like a normal, human hunger. It felt like a ravenous, all-consuming void was tearing at his insides.

At the edge of his consciousness, Jim was aware that someone was talking to him. He refocused on the sound of Claire's voice coming from the phone. "What?"

"Why are you whispering? Hey, are you okay?" Her voice had begun to transition from anger to something else. Not quite worry or concern, but something similar.

"What day is it?" he asked, trying to get a hand under him. The half-troll would need to grab something from the bag, it had what qualified as food in it.

"Uh, Wednesday?" Claire answered.

Jim froze. "What?" he said, panic rising.

"It's Wednesday. Why, has something happened?"

"Yeah, apparently I slept through Tuesday entirely. The last time I was awake was Monday night," he said, hissing the last part. With a heave, Jim pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at the aching throughout the muscles in his body.

"What? I couldn't get a hold of you because you were _sleeping?_" Claire asked, incredulous.

"Not really. More trying to heal from getting my back ripped open. I think I passed out from the blood loss," Jim reasoned. He was trying to figure out what happened himself. "Maybe the pain from the alcohol put me into shock?"

Jim shrugged to himself, leaning over slightly to grab his ratty bag and drag it over to him. Its contents clanked together, and the half-troll was shocked to find himself salivating. With a speed he didn't know he possessed, the glass was in his mouth, crunching against his teeth. He put another bottle in as soon as he swallowed, glad to be relieved of at least part of the pain of his hunger.

"Jaeger!" Claire shouted from the phone. Jim frowned. Why would she say that? That wasn't his name.

Then he realized, yes, it was his name. He wasn't Jim anymore.

He swallowed the piece of glass in his mouth, somehow feeling more hollow than he did when he was hungry. Putting the phone back to his ear, he said, "Yes?"

Her questions came rapid-fire. "What do you mean, blood loss? Who did that to you? Where are you? What are you doing?"

"None of that matters," he answered tiredly. "I'm fine now, and no one other than me was hurt. What happened that you were trying to get a hold of me?"

A period of silence passed. Long enough to make Jim wonder if he needed to get her attention again. Then she answered, her voice ringing strangely empty. "Someone died."

"What?" Jim's thoughts screeched to a halt. He began cursing himself. "Who?"

"A boy named Jim Lake Junior. He was the same age as me, went missing on Saturday. Everyone's been looking for him, but yesterday they found way too much of his blood spread around a street for him to be alive." Her voice had cracked somewhere in the middle, and at first, Jim was surprised to hear the emotions in her voice. She had never met him in this timeline, had she?

Then the force of, oh shit he's dead, hit him. That was not in his plans. His mother, Toby, at least with him disappearing, they would have hope that he might come back to him. A false hope, but hope, nonetheless. This would utterly destroy them. His mother, to whom he was the only one left in her life that she loved. Toby, who already had issues with those closest to him leaving him.

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't exactly sure what to do now, but he should probably try to offer some form of comfort to Claire.

"Did you know him?" he asked her, keeping his voice as gentle as possible.

"Not personally, no. I knew of him very well, and he had a major crush on me. I was always waiting for him to make a move, you know. He seemed like a great guy, but I wanted him to take the first step. And do you know how they said he died? An animal attack," Claire laughed, a tinge of bitterness to it. "There was nothing left. No flesh, no bones, just blood caked _everywhere_. And I asked Blinky. And you know what he said?"

It took him a second, but then the realization hit him with the force of a train. "Bular," he whispered in horror.

She thought Bular ate him?

"Yeah." Claire's anger was palpable. "I'm supposed to protect everyone. Now, there's a grieving family and school because I couldn't do anything about it!"

Jim's mind was working a thousand miles a minute. His blood was identified, then the news stations were fed a bogus story about an animal mauling. Which meant one thing.

The changelings knew who he was.

Well, that's problematic. "Claire," he started. Then took a second to think about his words. "There was nothing you could do. Have you ever seen Bular?"

"No, but that doesn't excuse this! My job is to protect everyone, to keep them safe from trolls like him! And I failed!" Sobs came out over the line as she wailed. "I let him die!"

"First of all, you didn't let anything happen. You were unaware of the attack until the report, weren't you?" Jim waited for her sound of acknowledgement before continuing. "I thought so. How were you going to stop something that you had no idea was happening? And, more importantly, how were you going to fight a troll the size of Draal with two swords bigger than you and millennia of experience killing Trollhunters?"

"I – I don't-"

"I think that now you understand how high the stakes are. This isn't some casual adventure where everything is guaranteed to be alright." Jim looked down at his own four-fingered hand. Clenching it hard enough to feel pain, he continued, saying, "I know that well enough myself. And now, you've learned it. From now on, use this as a motivator. Use what you're feeling now to drive you forward, to inspire you and keep you alive. The trolls never cared about humans before other than avoiding them. You're the only one who's going to do that. So, stay alive. Become the greatest damn Trollhunter to ever live and end anything that threatens the people you care about. Make the trolls care. Can you do that?"

A few seconds of sniffling went past. "Yeah, I can do that," Claire whispered. Jim smiled, for he could hear the steel in her voice, and he knew he succeeded.

"I'll let you in on a secret, Claire," he said.

"And what's that?" she asked, voice stronger now.

Jim tapped a finger against his leg, wondering if this would have the desired effect. "I'm actually just as young as you. I turned sixteen a couple months ago, in fact."

Claire gasped. "Really?"

"I wouldn't lie to you. The point is, though, if I can do this, then you can too. There's a reason that amulet chose you, after all. It doesn't make mistakes."

Claire stayed silent, pondering his words. Then she said, "Alright. I'll do it then. I'm going to be the very best."

"That no one ever was?" Jim smiled to himself. It was nice to feel like he was having a normal conversation again. He couldn't remember the last time he did.

She giggled. "You really are sixteen."

"Probably act more like a three-year-old, to be honest. Listen, if you ever need someone to just talk to, I'll be here, okay?" Jim said, something more than friendliness and concern lacing through his voice. He couldn't recognize it though and decided to dismiss it.

"I will," she said, letting out one final sniffle. "I have school in a bit. Talk to you tonight, though."

"Good luck. Remember, you're not alone. You have your friends, Blinky, Aaarrrgghh!, and me."

"After that? I think you count as a friend, too, Mr. Faceless."

A feeling of light warmth bloomed in the half-troll's chest. A grin slid across his face. Maybe he couldn't have what he used to, but he was content to simply be a part of her life. "I'd like that."

"Good, because you didn't really have a choice. Bye," she said, hanging up.

Jim sighed, though it was a different, more light-hearted sigh. How was she able to melt his heart without even seeing him?

Then he shook it off as he remembered his new problem.

The Changelings knew who he was.

The thing that shocked Jim the most was that his blood could still be identified as his own. It also inspired some sort of feeling within him, not exactly what he would call happiness, but a satisfaction that he still bled red, human blood. More importantly, though, Jim knew Strickler, and what he would do with this information. Specifically, the lack of information.

Strickler's first priority would be finding more information. His blood had provided a link that was ready to exploit, especially with the announcement of his death. Both his mother and Toby were within the changeling's reach, and they were who he would go for first. It would also be his downfall. Jim knew that his mother had managed to capture the man's heart without even intending to and with him going in to the relationship fully intending on only using her to get to her son.

Yeah, he was pretty well covered. At the same time, though, for the first time in his life, Jim knew more than his old teacher. He had the upper hand in terms of information. And he fully intended to mess with Strickler's head. Sure, the man had been one of his greatest allies in the end, but right now, he was a dick and deserved what he got.

With that in mind, Jim began planning his next moves. Maybe he could get the location of the Inferna Copula while he was at it.

* * *

Strickler sighed at his desk, watching the children walk out somberly. Announcing the death of their peer had taken a toll on them, and it was quite obvious that they would be out of sorts for a time. Especially Jim's friend, Toby. While the situation with Jim had become complicated, and any fondness the changeling once had for the boy must now be thrown out the window, there was no reason to inflict further suffering on his friend. The only issue was that he had no relationship with him, and no means of assuaging his loss.

Massaging his temples, the head of the Janus Order contemplated what they had learned. A boy who had gone missing was found, in the center of town, able to throw Bular through a semi-truck and with much more trollish features than the last time he had been seen. Along with some strange copy of the amulet, if Bular was to be believed. Which, while the Gumm-Gumm was prone to scorn and arrogance, he rarely lied. That was the job of the Impure, and far beneath him.

The visit to Jim's mother last night had gone excellently, even if Strickler had to set aside his distaste at using the woman. Her life had been hard enough already, but Jim was now an unknown, and he needed contingency plans fast. Besides, he might be able to offer her some sort of comfort, as Jim clearly no longer would.

As a grieving teacher, visiting the mother of his favorite student to share in their misery would not be thought of as odd in the community. Loss had a strange way of bringing people together, and he planned to exploit that.

Still, this complication could not have come at a worse time. Strickler stood up and walked to his door, looking at the window to see Claire Nuñez walking around the corner, her head drooping. Although she was also going through a period of grief, there would be no comfort for her, though her suffering would be delayed for a time when Jim was assured to be a non-issue. He could rely on other members to try and obtain the amulet from her for now, while he reunited with his star pupil.

With backup, of course. Strickler pulled out his phone and scrolled through a directory of what changelings were currently in Arcadia, visiting or otherwise. He selected four and messaged them that they would be joining him in evaluating a new threat. For once, he actually wished that Otto was near, pompous fair-weather that he was. Polymorphing was always helpful when dealing with the unknown.

His phone began to ring. Strickler raised it to his ear as he answered, settling his free hand behind his back and walking to the window. "Nomura," he acknowledged.

"Stricklander. We have a problem with the goblins." If there was one thing he appreciated about the woman, it was how she always got straight to business.

"Last time I checked, that was not my problem," Strickler said, his voice clearly telling her to get the part where it became his.

She snarled into the phone, saying, "Well, forgive me for bringing their behavior to their attention. I suppose that you don't want to hear about their newfound fear of the mountains to the north, then."

Strickler narrowed his eyes. "What are the pests on about now?"

"They refuse to patrol the mountains, citing something about it being someone else's territory now. They're unable to identify the scent as belonging to anything, though apparently it's closest to azurite."

"Azurite? The blue mineral?" Strickler asked, peering through the blinds of his window, watching the children performing some outside activity. A rather chaotic game of soccer, if he deduced correctly. In which there were no penalties for physical contact, and the ball was being used more as a weapon than a means to score. His lips curled as he watched the coach attempt to stop the game, only for the whole field to freeze as the ball slammed into his face.

"So you did pay attention in geology," Nomura said scathingly. His smirk grew at her hissing voice. How she chafed at being a mere subordinate. It amused him. "Obviously, some sort of troll came out of Trollmarket."

Strickler scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. The goblins would have identified it as a troll in that case. And here I thought you knew them."

"Why would I spend more time with the slimy things than I need to?" she growled.

"I just assumed you were close. On account of how much you remind me of one. Do update me on any changes in the situation," Strickler said, laughing silently as he hung up on her. She was so easy to rile up, and it was so much fun. The changeling would take his amusement where he could get it.

Satisfied that everything would soon be back under control, Strickler returned to his seat. He had a class next period, and he needed to grade these papers.

* * *

Jim was once again sitting high in a tree, though this time he was visiting a place much more important to him than the last building he had watched.

The half-troll let his foot swing back in forth in the wind as he stared down at his own house, and more importantly, the people in it. His heart ached for his mother, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and even more so that he could easily take away her sorrow. But still, he did not move from his position, and had no intention of doing so. Not until the other man was about to leave.

Ironically, he had no words for his mother, who likely deserved them the most. No, his words were for the man attempting to twist her with his words and actions, sitting across from her at the dining room table. Jim smirked, knowing that any plan of Strickler's that involved his mother would invariably backfire. Granted, she was much more emotionally stable last time, but the changeling had no magically-binding charms or anything else he could use to indirectly hurt her.

He had confidence in his mother.

A crack of wood sounded beneath Jim, and he flicked his eyes downward to find the disturbance. To his astonishment, he spotted a deer-like troll with glowing yellow eyes sniffing at the ground, its eyes flicking about erratically. A changeling, likely here with Strickler. Trying to flush him out, probably.

With a slight push, Jim fell out of the tree. He whistled through the air, near-silent until he landed directly on the changeling's back. It was able to let out a strangled cough before going still, though with a quick check, the half-troll was able to confirm that he was still breathing. Slinging the troll over his back, he jumped into the woods, setting the troll down and placing a large log across its chest to keep it down.

Jim flicked his ears and swiveled them, listening for anyone else. After a couple seconds, he heard two whispered voices and grinned to himself. The half-troll stalked towards them, not making a sound as he drew closer to their position.

"-don't get it," a rasping female voice said. "The amulet's in the hands of a little girl, ripe for the taking, and what are we doing? Getting poison ivy."

"Now, now," the other voice said, a tinge of condescension coloring it. "Our leader made the right call, paying attention to that which is unknown. After all, the amulet is in the hands of a little girl, just as you said. It's not going anywhere, and I'm sure even you could handle a teenager."

"I'm about to handle you, Raicard," the first voice hissed as Jim crawled into the branches above them. Both were smaller trolls, the female being larger with a broad torso and arms but small legs. The male was a ball with long arms and legs, reminiscent of goblins, though with less of a neck.

Jim stepping off the branch he was balanced on, falling foot-first onto the female's head, sending her down like a sack of potatoes. Raicard gasped before a gauntleted fist slammed into the side of his head, laying him out flat.

Jim was about to toss them into the woods with their compatriot before he heard the steps of another two changelings. Pulling his glaives into his hands and thankful that his helmet was already up, the half-troll whirled around, letting the glaives fly as he did. One cursed, but managed to duck beneath it, while the other grunted at the deep gash in their shoulder. Not allowing them to recover, he followed up with a spinning kick to the already injured one but was then forced to jerk to the side to avoid a strike from the other behind him.

The injured one roared, raising its uninjured arm and rushing at him. Jim narrowed his eyes, dodging the obvious feint and grabbing the foot that was launched at his groin. He yanked on the foot, crashing his opponent to the ground and then spun around to face the other, using the one he was currently holding as a club. However, this changeling appeared to be more agile, ducking beneath the unwieldy weapon that Jim let loose into a tree, and striking at the stomach of the Trollhunter.

Which accomplished little but the bruising of the changeling's knuckles and a slight pressure against Jim's abs. They both paused for a moment, the changeling staring into the expressionless mask that covered the Trollhunter's face. Then Jim slammed a fist down on the back of his head, knocking him out.

It took him a moment to cart all their unconscious bodies out into the woods, where it would take them some time to get back, no matter what they did. Once he was certain that they would not interfere any longer, Jim returned his house, when a memory occurred to him.

Strickler had an odd habit of forgetting to lock his car. It wouldn't be too hard to reach; no one would be looking out their windows at this time, and they'd probably write him off as some weird cosplayer if they saw him. As quickly as he could, Jim dashed across the cul de sac, opening the back door of the old changeling's car as soon as he reached it. He slipped inside, scraping his horns against the top of the car before he dismissed his helmet to allow him more room. Also, the ability to talk to Strickler face to face. After all, they both knew each other. And it was about time Jim talked to someone who actually knew him.

Hiding as best as he could in the backseat, Jim watched as Strickler hugged his mother. His fingers flexed, itching for the handle of something sharp, but he forced himself to remain calm. It wouldn't do to kill one of his potential allies.

Finally, the man walked out the door, casting a look around the neighborhood as he did. Pulling out his phone, the older man frowned before making his way to his car. He opened the door, sitting gracefully in his seat, but paying no attention. "Where are they?" he muttered, tapping on the screen of his phone as he pulled the door shut.

Jim placed his hand slightly in front of his former teacher's neck before summoning his glaive. The flash of red light was enough to startle the old man, but he still when he felt their burning sharpness against his throat. "Hard to find trustworthy help these days, isn't it?" Jim asked, smirking as he put a tally in his mental scoreboard. He couldn't say that he had ever been able to surprise Strickler before.

The man sighed but didn't move. "Indeed, it is, though I doubt their integrity is the issue here. Are they still alive?"

"This time. I only have so much mercy left, though. And I happen to know that most of the Janus Order deserves little." Jim chalked down another mark as he saw the bead of sweat track down the side of Strickler's face. "Now, drive please. Somewhere remote, as I'm sure neither of us want to expose the secret just yet."

The half-troll's eyes flicked to Strickler's hand as he shifted his car into drive, then returned to the steering wheel. He knew that the changeling would have concealed weaponry, he just didn't know where in the car it was.

The changeling cleared his throat. "It is rather difficult to drive safely with a blade at my neck. I promise that I will take no untoward actions if you allow me a modicum of freedom, as I happen to want to live through tonight."

"I know. I also know both rule one and two, which tell me in no uncertain terms that oaths and promises are not something you hold in high regard," Jim said, though he dismissed the glaive. "Try anything and I can summon a sword that will go straight through your back."

Strickler drove in silence for a moment, probably trying to gather himself before opening his mouth. "I see you've changed quite a bit, Jim. Still trying to shoulder the weight of the world, though, much like Atlas. And you know where that got him."

"And what makes you think I'm trying to be the hero?" Jim asked. Hearing his familiar name from Strickler felt like an old friend returned to him, though he had a long way to go until then.

"Please. I know you." His eyes flicked to Jim's form in the mirror. "You appear to have been chosen, though I must say that is an unfamiliar look. I was under the impression someone else held the amulet."

"You also appear to be under the impression that you are in control of this conversation. This time, I control the chaos, Strickler. Now, I'm going to ask you a couple questions. Try not to lie; I've found that my new ears are pretty sensitive." He waited for Strickler to acknowledge him with a nod as he took a turn away from the city. "The first is why are you manipulating my mother? Beyond trying to obtain some sort of bargaining chip to use against me, of course."

"I have no other reason. You are unknown threat, and we need to neutralize you quickly, now that the amulet is vulnerable. The return of our Dark Lord is at hand, and nothing can be allowed to delay it," Strickler said with conviction powering his voice.

Jim snorted, knowing fully well what side Strickler ended up on and how fake that conviction was. "Yeah, good luck with that. You just answered my second question, but my third is why do changelings, based on a survival of the fittest society, follow a failed conqueror? That's never made sense to me. I mean, the guy clearly failed, and what's he going to do if you decide to break away? How is he even going to hear about it?"

"I thought you would know about his son. After all, he was the one who laid open your back," Strickler said, a slight bit of his confidence returning.

"You mean that whiny psychopathic toddler Bular? Didn't I throw him through a semi or something?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow at the man. "Isn't he kind of more incentive to break off? I mean, look how he treats the people trying to help him achieve his goals. What makes you think the apple fell far from the tree?"

"Gunmar will reward us for bringing about his reckoning on the world. He will elevate changelings to the status that no other race ever allowed them." Strickler's voice only wavered a tiny bit, but it was enough to make Jim smile. He knew he was getting under his skin. Now, it was up to his mother and Claire to seal the deal.

"Think about it. For now, though, I'll see you around," Jim said.

Then, just because he could and the changeling definitely deserved it, the half-troll used his foot to launch the door off its hinges and hopped out as Strickler yelled in surprise.

Jim was still chuckling to himself as he ducked back into his little cave. It had been quite the long day for him, but he was very pleased with how it turned out. He had already checked to make sure that the changelings were gone from where he left them, though he had smelled goblins as he did. Operating off some weird feeling, he had rubbed his horns into the trees and scratched his nails across some of them. When he realized what he was doing, he had violently jerked himself away, but managed to stay in a good mood.

"Wish I had a camera," he muttered to himself. Strickler's face as he kicked off the car door was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen, and he dearly wanted to share it with someone else one day.

One day. When everything was better.

Jim sighed to himself, laying down. The location of the Inferna Copula remained a mystery to him, as he had realized asking about it would have given away his intentions. The seeds of doubt were a good enough result from the meeting. That and drawing attention away from Claire. They'd probably be searching for him much more earnestly now.

That wasn't something that the half-troll could deal with right now, though. "I really have to switch my rhythm," he muttered. "Being nocturnal would be much more helpful."

Closing his eyes, Jim sighed, trying to find some spot of peace to latch onto so he could rest.

* * *

He opened them to a room of black stone infused with veins of glowing green crystal, several Gumm-Gumms standing watch in two lines through the middle of the room, leaving an alley between them in which one could approach where he was standing.

"Magnificent, isn't it, my champion?" Jim turned his head to see Morgana sitting on a floating throne, the staff of Avalon in her emerald hand. Her helmet was off, exchanged instead for a golden crown with long spikes. It was the first time he had seen her features, and she was _gorgeous._

As fair as a porcelain doll, and bearing a beauty far beyond any mortal capability, the moniker of Pale Lady was apt in Jim's eyes. She stared at him, something akin to affection in her eyes but far darker. She raised her hand daintily, its back presented to him.

Hatred reared its ugly head. Jim's left hand twitched in response, and though he felt something trying to manifest in his armored hand, it felt like it was blocked by something. Instead of doing what he truly wanted, Jim grasped her hand gently in his own and helped to pull her out of her throne as if she were a queen.

She stepped down next to him, her armor clicking against the floor. "Won't you escort me back to my quarters? I grow weary of this night, and our kingdom will remain in the morning," she said, leaning into him.

Jim felt himself nod and resigned himself to what would happen this time. Memories that felt like they were from ages past flitted through his mind; the fates of his friends, what he had done to his own mother, the fires of Arcadia as he ordered his new army to burn it.

The response of the world, screaming against them in revulsion, decrying their actions and calling them monsters. It hadn't helped them, of course. He couldn't remember much, just the crunching of bone beneath his feet and the warm wetness of blood sliding across his skin.

"What's happening?" he finally managed to rasp out.

Morgana tilted her head against him. "How do you mean?" Then she looked up into his eyes and frowned. "Are you having one of your episodes again?"

"Episodes?" he asked. "I – what is this? This isn't me."

"Oh dear," she muttered, pity lacing through her voice. "We've just consolidated our rule of the southeast states. Try to remember. You were glorious in the last battle, after all, ripping the top off that tank like it was made of paper! Then tossing it into the helicopter… I must say, the technological advances of humanity are near fantastical."

"I… I wouldn't do that. This isn't me," Jim said, starting to panic. He sat down heavily against the wall, sliding down it.

"Yes, but what would and would doesn't matter, Jim. This is your heart now, isn't it?" Morgana said, laying a hand on his amulet as she sat down next to him. "It's a part of me. So, you see, who you are doesn't matter."

The area grew dark, and Morgana's presence seemed to grow to fill the room, pressing against him and suffocating him. As he tried to gasp for breath, her voice filled skull, making it feel like it was ready to explode.

"**You belong to me."**

* * *

**So.**

**Sorry about that giant gap. I had health problems, including a problem with being unable to synthesize vitamin D, strep, flu, depression, and school in general, but I should be more productive now that I'm over that. Thanks for sticking with this.**


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